Parcels of my Mind

Moments like these create memories
Like ornaments shining on the tree.
When I look deeply into them,
I end up seeing nothing
But my own eyes and face
Aging with each year.

Christmas is a time for rejoicing
In the birth of a godly child.
Giving me feelings similar to those
On the birthday of my own children,
For a father can't help but see
In his own child's face, the face of god.

My mantle is lined with pictures from the years.
A weary juxtaposition
Between memories both recent and distant.
For, like in the ornaments, I can't help but
See my own mortality reflected.
The cross of time is mine to carry.

A picture of my late wife to match the wedding ball.
A picture of my baby boy to match "Baby's 1st Christmas."
One of my boy's graduation for the "Congratulations!" on a branch.
All my memories are left hanging on the tree.
But none of them are new.
They all just stopped over time.

My wife fell to cancer,
My children moved away
With children of their own.
But their faces still look at me
With love from the mantel.
And the ornaments still hang on the tree.